


Domestic

by OasisMirror



Series: Good Omens, Good Boys [1]
Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Ace!Aziraphale, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, M/M, No Spoilers, SO MUCH FLUFF, just fluff, squishes in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-13
Updated: 2019-06-13
Packaged: 2020-05-07 04:26:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19201873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OasisMirror/pseuds/OasisMirror
Summary: Post Series 1, the boys move in together, mornings aren't lonely.  There is fluff and mild confusion and a kiss.





	Domestic

**Author's Note:**

> Az is an ace icon for the ages and I adore him. Here, have some feelings. *shoves* LOVE YOU!

The co-habitating wasn’t all bad. In fact, Aziraphale would say that it was mostly good. They got to see one another every day (or nearly), and bits of one another’s lives continued to bleed into the other’s. It was just as well because they alternated weeks at one another’s flats, which wasn’t extremely practical, but did mean that Crowley now had some rugs on his floors.

“Very dark rugs,” the demon had insisted.

“As long as they’re soft, I don’t much care what color they are, dear,” the angel had replied over the lip of his book.

It also meant a hidden speaker system in the bookshop, which at first Aziraphale had been hesitant about but then found he could play whatever music he liked whenever he liked.

The downsides were few. They mostly presented themselves in interactions like this one, on one of the bookshop weeks:

“What is on your face?”

The angel looked up from his book, through his round reading glasses. “Glasses,” he said, perplexed. He’d put in a breakfast nook, which he quite liked the sound of, and there was room for a little oven to make tea or cocoa or coffee, whatever one liked. There was also room for a little table next to a large, beautiful window, which faced the street. It was like having one’s own cafe. Crowley had helped him create it and Aziraphale adored it.

Crowley slouched in the chair opposite him with a little flounce and a put upon sigh, which there was really no call for. He didn’t wear his sunglasses at home, when they were alone, which Aziraphale took as a sign that he was comfortable. It really warmed him, it honestly did, though he didn’t dare say so. Maybe someday, when he could stand the look of revulsion that might flit past on the demon’s face. Or with the fact that Crowley might take the complement as a sign to put on his sunglasses and never take them off again.

“But _why_ though, is my question. You don’t actually need them.”

“Well, I don’t need cake, either, but I do like it.”

“You eat cake, you don’t wear it. It’s a different sort of thing.”

“Is it?” He closed his book. There were times where he thought that maybe he read too much and paid his partner too little attention, but he was glad that Crowley never really let this happen. The demon was very fond of attention, particularly attention from him, and Aziraphale was usually more than happy to give it. “How is it different?” He took off the offending glasses to look at the demon across from him at the small breakfast table.

“Eating things is not the same as dressing up a certain way. Why do you wear them?”

“I like them. They’re...quaint.”

“You think they make you look a bit clever. You don’t need to wear them, you know, you’re plenty clever.”

A smile lit on the corners of the angel’s lips. He did most like being called clever. It was his favorite complement. He suspected Crowley knew that, from the blush that colored his cheeks.

“Do you really think so?” he asked, pushing half of his sugary doughnut across the table at his companion. Crowley picked it up and took a big bite.

“Yeah, of course. Couldn’t keep up with me, otherwise,” he said with his mouth full, which Aziraphale did not like, but one picked one’s battles.

“That’s a high complement, you’re one of the cleverest beings I’ve ever met,” the angel answered, just to watch the demon he loved color a darker shade of pink.

“Alright, you stop it now. That’s not fair.”

“Stop what? Being nice? I’m an angel, I can’t help it,” he said with finality and put his glasses back on, opening his book.

“No, I know you can’t.” Crowley polished off the last of the pastry. “Well, I’m off for the day, angel,” he announced, standing. “Need anything while I’m out and about?”

“No, but…” he put his finger in his book, went to close it and looked up at the demon to find a sticky, warm kiss placed on his forehead, which made his thoughts studder to a halt. “I...oh…” warmth flooded his chest as love washed over his entire body.

Crowley’s thin hand cupped his cheek and he smirked down at him, pleased as anything with himself.

“Yes, angel?”

“I...might I come with you, dear boy?” He stammered, his whole body thrumming.

“I’d like nothing better.”

They left the bookstore arm-in-arm.


End file.
